Actor in Hollywood

Without a doubt, the two options Edgar proposed were incredibly sincere, leaving Anson amazed and finally feeling the impact of a Hollywood blockbuster.

It wasn't just bold—it was borderline insane.

However, Anson had a different perspective:

Maybe these terms were a bit too aggressive?

From Anson's point of view, William Morris was treating him and this project as tools, trying to leverage this opportunity to gain momentum, complete their overall strategy, and score a win against Creative Artists Agency (CAA), ultimately securing more clients and projects. The real profits were what came afterward.

But had they genuinely considered Anson's position? With such aggressive, insane, and bold terms, how much room for negotiation was left?

Let's suppose the negotiations fail, and the worst-case scenario becomes a reality—what happens next?

Sony-Columbia cuts its losses in time, drops Anson, and recasts, maybe bringing in Tobey Maguire. They'd still be in control.

William Morris could replace Anson with another actor and continue auditions, renegotiating with Sony-Columbia while adjusting their strategy based on lessons learned.

The only one sacrificed would be Anson.

Additionally, all of Edgar's efforts and struggles would have been for nothing.

After all, to Sony-Columbia and William Morris, a young actor and a young agent are expendable.

Indeed, within the broader context, Anson holds some value, and William Morris is willing to back him, but in the face of bigger interests, Anson is still just a pawn—at least for now.

Essentially, William Morris and CAA, as well as William Morris and Sony-Columbia, are all the same; in the pursuit of corporate interests, personal interests are always expendable.

Unless the pawn can increase its value and make itself indispensable, or even level up to become a player.

So, what to do?

Anson had an idea.

"Box office bonuses."

He threw out a tempting bait.

In 2000, box office bonuses weren't popular. Movie studios didn't like them, and neither did actors or directors. A flat fee was still the norm.

Things didn't start changing until five years later, because of "Pirates of the Caribbean 3."

Disney found that Johnny Depp's salary was climbing higher with each film. They had to pay his salary while bearing the entire risk of box office success or failure, which left them dissatisfied.

Meanwhile, Johnny Depp's agent realized that no matter how much a flat fee increased, there was a ceiling. The $20 million club seemed to be the limit. If actors wanted to break through that ceiling, they needed to include box office bonuses.

Traditionally, a film's box office earnings were split among the studio, the distributor, and the theaters. Naturally, each party had to bear some risk.

In the '80s and '90s, when actor salaries were still manageable, studios were reluctant to share box office profits with actors, directors, or screenwriters. However, as production costs continued to rise, and actor salaries along with them, the risks that studios had to bear also increased.

So, the situation changed.

"Pirates of the Caribbean 4" became a textbook case. Thanks to the success of the third film, Johnny Depp took a slice of Disney's profits. By the time the fourth film came around, Disney didn't want to share box office bonuses, so they offered a record-breaking flat fee:

$56 million.

This led to the film's production costs exceeding $250 million, and when you add in marketing and distribution expenses, the total cost easily surpassed $300 million.

However, when the movie was released, its North American box office grossed only $240 million. Fortunately, the international market remained strong, and the global box office just barely crossed the $1 billion mark.

After deducting theater cuts, producer bonuses, production costs, and distribution fees in various countries, Disney made a modest profit of $50 million.

They didn't lose money, but there wasn't much to celebrate either.

After that, when actors and studios discussed box office bonuses, studios became more open to the idea. Compared to a flat fee of $56 million, offering $10 million plus a 5% or 10% share of the North American box office seemed like a much better deal for the studios, as it reduced their financial risk.

As for now, box office bonuses are gradually becoming more common, though they're mostly seen in independent films. These smaller productions often lack the budget to hire top-tier actors, so they entice them with a share of the box office, essentially inviting them to invest in the film.

But in mainstream commercial films?

It's still pretty rare.

Here's how Anson saw it:

"The current situation is this: Sony-Columbia needs to assess the risk. They're under a lot of pressure, and the $100 million budget already has them worried."

"One reason they chose Sam Raimi as the director is because of his down-to-earth approach; he makes sure every dollar is spent wisely."

"If I'm willing to lower my salary and take on some of the risk through box office bonuses, while also cooperating more actively with Sony-Columbia's marketing efforts, and then add a clause that increases my pay for the sequel based on North American box office performance, it could work out well."

In contract negotiations, it's all about asking for the sky and settling for something more reasonable, or drawing a tempting picture and seeing who buys into it.

At the end of the day, it's about whose offer is more enticing, believable, and persuasive.

Anson's idea was to leverage both William Morris and Sony-Columbia's concerns while finding a balance in their shared interests.

First, it reduces risk and ensures that he will give his all.

Second, it brings up the possibility of sequels, spreading out the pressure without committing to a guaranteed contract. Both Anson and Sony-Columbia can take things one step at a time.

Third, and most importantly, Anson cleverly exploited everyone's "lack of confidence."

William Morris and Sony-Columbia both wanted "Spider-Man" to succeed, but given the current situation, superhero movies weren't seen as anything special, and neither of them had full confidence in the film's success—or rather, they weren't sure how successful it could be.

As a result, the idea of box office bonuses didn't seem so painful. In fact, the visibly lower salary check was much easier to accept than the previously sky-high demands and the potential sequel tie-ins.

This was evident from Edgar's reaction.

After carefully considering the idea, Edgar couldn't hide his concerns.

"Anson, do you know what this means?"

"It means that you and this project will be tied together. If the movie fails—no, not even fails—if it succeeds but doesn't meet expectations, like if the North American box office only hits $200 million, everyone will blame you and expect you to take responsibility."

"This kind of pressure... Are you sure about this?"

Confidence is one thing—Edgar believed the movie could succeed.

But blind confidence, to the point of losing sound judgment, was another. Edgar thought Anson was taking a risk.

If Edgar knew that in a previous life, "Spider-Man" had grossed over $400 million at the North American box office, he might have understood Anson's certainty.

Fifth update.